


Tears of Moonlight

by Athedias



Category: Baldur's Gate, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athedias/pseuds/Athedias
Summary: Viconia DeVir is drow: A ruthless, pragmatic race of cunning elves. Terrible fate and fell machinations have brought her bloodied and battered to the surface world. This land of sunlight and trust is foreign to her, and she is beset by the hateful denizens of the above who conflate her with her more heinous kin. She desires nothing more than to live in peace, but is cut short in her attempts by a particularly rabid mob. Her doom seems all but assured. Fate, however, holds one last great turn for her...
Relationships: Viconia DeVir/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Viconia thrashed, limbs pulling tight against hempen ropes. Coarse knots bit her dusky skin and held her fast to the pole behind. Taunting sneers and laughs harried her mind. Furious indignation strengthened her flailing.  _ ‘Surfacers! Thrice damned surface dwelling dogs!’ _

__ A man preached before the tiny crowd hemming her in. “See this dark beast before you!” A gaunt finger jabbed her side. Viconia snarled. “A Drow! Death and evil in the flesh!” The crowd jeered and called, incoherent and angry. Her stomach tightened and clenched. ‘ _ Bloodthirsty bastard hounds!’  _ A light chuckle escaped the man. “And what, my people, do we do with evil?” 

A chorus of violent calls sounded their hearts. “Burn! Burn her! Burn the witch!”

Desperation welled high, shoving aside her anger. “You Rivvin are mad!” She called out, voice annoyingly weak with fear. “I’ve done nothing to you! To any of you!”

The man slapped her jaw. Sharp pain awoke clarity. ‘ _ Ah. Yes...I am behaving...weakly.’  _ He continued, turning and addressing her directly. “You have  _ done  _ more than enough, drow!” Hearty guffaws filled the air. One thin hand waved dismissively. “Your sins are painted on your skin, clear and plain for all to see.” Viconia tightened her jaw. ‘ _ Of course he would.’  _ Searing venom filled her mind. ‘ _ Simple, stupid, stumbling surfacer!’  _

A surge of hateful strength filled her. “No!” She called. “ **_No_ ** ! Bastards! Refuse stained surface bastards!” Her throat screamed obscenities. She thrashed against her bindings. Her native language remerged, replacing her smooth common with venomous Drow. “ **Die! Die and** **_rot_ ** **! Lloth take** **_all_ ** **of you! Let your eyes be put out and** **_fed to the rats_ ** !”

The man laughed and turned. “You see? She admits her evils!” The crowd bayed and called. Several more individuals joined the small throng. True, cold fear pierced her core. “Now then! Let us do the will of Bashaba!” The crowd cheered. “Let us burn the evil drow!” The man presented an unlit torch.  _ ‘They...they truly mean to  _ burn _ me, the disgusting swine!’ _ Another raggedly dressed man approached and withdrew flint and steel. His hands struck eagerly together, flashing sparks over the torch.

Hate fueled strength evaporated. Viconia pressed herself away. ‘ _ No! No, no no!’  _ Stinging wetness clouded her eyes. She cast her gaze heavenward and called out. “ **Shar! Maiden mother of the night! Save me** !” A part of her whispered. ‘ _ Begging for aid? _ ... _ that is weak. Weakness is death.’  _ Viconia swallowed and spoke again, closing her eyes and desperately seeking her deities power. “ **Reward your supplicant! Strike them down! My deliverance rests in your hands, Nightsinger** !”

Heavy breaths hammered her chest. Several seconds passed. No change deterred the crowd. Her deity remained silent. Viconia hung her head and hunched over herself. Bitter tears dripped from her eyes. ‘ _ Weakness...weakness is death. I was weak...and now I am dead.’  _ She blinked away the moisture, steeling her nerve. ‘ _ I can...I can at least face my end with dignity. Cast curses and not screams on the wretches.’  _ She lifted her eyes, desperately rousing her anger. 

A new figure stood at the front of the small crowd, a tall man clad in heavy mail. His powerful frame stood pensive, holding his heavy armor and great-blade easily. ‘ _ Wait...is that a…’ _ Her eyes widened fearfully, swiftly assessing his features. Calm blue eyes, nestled above a small and well trimmed beard, met hers. Auburn hair cut near his head, capping his simple and honest features. A talisman of Helm hung proudly over his chest. ‘ _ A paladin. Of course.’  _ Exhaustion poured over her. ‘ _ To assure my doom, no doubt.’ _ She sought her anger, futilely stoking the spent coals. ‘ _ Feh... Feh. I am doomed. Burned by Rivvel...the shame…’  _ Her head drooped. Weak sorrow built within her. She bit her lip, stifling a sob.

A quiet, even voice spoke up. “Excuse me sir, what is happening here?” Bitter laughter bubbled up and threatened to spill over, contained only by her fatigue. ‘ _ What is happening, the rivvil asks…oh how cruel of fate, to delay my death with idiocy.’ _

The gaunt man laughed and raised his torch. “Ah, good Helmite! We burn a witch this day!” The crowd bellowed assent. “Another dark beast burned and gone, my friend!” 

The man nodded, folding his arms. “A witch, you say?” He dipped his head. “Her, I assume?”

Her captor nodded. “Yes! This…” He poked her side stiffly. “...Evil...baleful…” His finger dug deep, cutting her skin. Viconia stiffened herself, refusing to flinch. “...monster!” He withdrew his finger. 

A small smile crossed the Paladins face. “Aye. A wicked witch, surely…” The blue orbs narrowed. “So what are her crimes? What is she accused of?” The crowd hushed. Disbelieving murmurs filled the air. 

Viconia scrunched her brows. ‘ _ Accused of? Hmm?’  _ An ember of hope sparked in her heart. ‘ _ He’s a paladin...they care about... _ justice?  _ Was that the word for that quaint notion?’  _ The man cocked his head, lowering his torch slightly. “Accused of? She is drow!” He jabbed her side again. “She is a creature of foul darkness and evil!”

A dangerous glint sharpened the man’s eyes. “Oh? She is?” He pointedly looked her over. “She seems a woman to me. You say her crime is ‘drow’?” 

Viconia pressed forward, seizing the small opportunity. “I  _ am  _ just a woman! Nothing but another!” The man met her gaze, eyes still flinty. “They tied me here for no reason! I have done nothing wrong!” She wiggled in her bindings. “I swear to you, I speak true!”

Her captor struck her jaw. Stinging pain blinded her vision. “Silence! You will not speak!” He turned and addressed the paladin. “She is a drow. She is guilty, as surely as if we saw the blood on her hands!”

“So, you admit then that you consigned her without reason?” Frigid blue bore into her captor.

“Without...without reason!?” Her captor sputtered. “Her kind is wicked! We need no reason, for we know she will strike us dead in a moment!” He gesticulated wildly. “No sooner than we turn our back does she drive the poisoned knife in!”

The paladin shook his head and dropped his arms. “I’m afraid that’s not how this works.” His palms clenched. “If she has committed no crime, she is free to go.” Viconia’s stomach heaved. ‘ _ Gods below, what a simpering coward…’  _ She sighed quietly. ‘ _ And to think, I thought myself saved for a moment…’ _

Her captor scowled and waved his hand. “Bah! You are an offense to Helm!” His torch pulled up, finally crackling with flame. “Bashaba’s will be done! The evil drow burns.” An arrogant snear cut his haggard features. “Just you try and stop me. I will see justice!”

Panic reignited in her core. The man lowered his torch. A sharp thud split the air. The torch spun through the air, clattering down several strides away. Her captor swore and clutched his hand. The paladin spoke, quiet and deadly. “Fine. Stand aside, cur.” Viconia’s jaw slackened.  _ ‘Is he...actually…’ _

The man bellowed incoherently, drawing a knife from his belt. Sharp steel swung. The paladin stepped back, allowing the knife to skim his chest. Her captor stumbled forward. The paladin stepped deftly around him, twining behind his back. Chain gauntlets gripped his neck and head. A heavy boot lashed out, striking his unbalanced knee. The man howled and struggled, knife flashing blindly. The paladin pressed his knee forward and roared. “Still yourself! Now!” Raggedly dressed common folk staggered back. Panic and terror stole voices and quieted the air.

Her captor snarled and stabbed blindly behind him. “Fool! Piss-sodden fool! Bashaba’s will be done! Die!” Blade struck mail and cut flesh. “Burn with the witch! Di…” A small grunt accompanied a sharp twist. The man’s neck cracked. His body collapsed. 

The paladin stepped back and muttered under his breath. Stunned silence filled the air. His eyes turned back to hers before swiftly assessing the crowd. He spoke again, a deep and resonant anger shaking his voice. “Disperse. Now.” Several hecklers jerked and moved away. “That is an order.” He turned back, withdrawing a knife of his own. “I will see to her.” 

Viconia’s heart stuttered. ‘ _ After that!? He would still kill me after…’  _ Sharp steel pressed near her palms, cutting the binding ropes. She staggered forward, tripping over her bound feet. A strong hand clasped her shoulder and steadied her. Seconds later the bindings over her ankles fell free. She paused a moment, breathing swift and shallow.  _ ‘I...he just...but why?’  _ Angry mutters seeped over the air.  _ ‘What benefit does this bring him?’  _

The hand on her shoulder squeezed gently. “Come.” The paladin motioned his head away. “We should move before they regain what little courage they have.”

Viconia clamped her mouth shut. “Yes. Of course.” Her mind raced. ‘ _ He is dangerous. Fast and strong.’  _ She broke into motion, striding alongside the man. “I will draw up my hood. Know you any decent hiding places? An alleyway or other hidden crevice?” She bit her lip and drew up her hood. ‘ _ How am I going to kill him? He’s obviously bringing me to his own  _ justice _. I need to be ready.’  _

The man released her shoulder and motioned forward. “Aye. I do. There’s a small alley, out of sight. Ahead.” Viconia blinked. ‘ _ That was...easier than expected.’  _ He continued, eyes scanning the people around. “You should be safe there, for a moment anyway.”

Viconia nodded and followed him. Several moments later they turned sharply, entering a shadowed alleyway. The man paused and turned back. He rubbed his chin and sighed. “We shouldn’t be bothered here for a brief while.” Rolling his shoulders, he leaned back against the wall. “Free to make a plan or what have you.” 

Viconia narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. “That’s it?” She cocked her hip and grimaced. “What do you want?”

The paladin shook his head and chuckled weakly. “What do I want? That should be obvious.” A small grin tugged his lips.

_ ‘Oh!’  _ Understanding dawned. ‘ _ Ah. So  _ that’s  _ why. Hah, males are so predictable.’  _ She sank to her knees and met his eyes. “I see now, and I agree. You may ravish me for my freedom.” Her hands reached to her gown.

A small flush scoured the man. Rubbing his eyes, he turned away. The man waved his hand. “Ah...No. Your freedom is your own.” Viconia paused.  _ ‘I...what?’  _ He folded his arms. “I’ll not pry any price for saving you. That was my duty, and reason enough for me.” Her jaw opened slightly. ‘ _ Not...demand...but…’  _ His eyes closed slightly . “But we should speak of what you will do next. As I understand it, this could happen again?”

Viconia stood. Shame burned her ears. “Of course it’s your duty, male!” She folded her arms tightly and stepped back.  _ ‘Why? Am I not...am I not appealing?’  _ She whipped her head away. “And of course this could happen again. You rivvel are hateful and spiteful beings.” Her jaw clenched.  _ ‘What does he want!?’ _

The man sighed and dipped his head. “Please, ma’am. I am trying to help you.” Her mind screamed. ‘ _ But  _ why _!?’  _ He dug his heel in the ground. “I’m not hateful or spiteful, just as you said you’re not guilty.” His voice sharpened. “Right?”

Viconia relaxed her shoulders and nodded. “I...you are correct.” She turned to face him. “You...you seem honest in your intentions.” Uncertain fear roiled in her gut. ‘ _ Honest...such a foolish thing…’  _ She cleared her throat and lifted her head. “So I shall be honest with you. I did nothing to provoke them. I was merely sifting through a traders stall when one tore my hood down and screamed ‘Drow!’” Viconia presented her most stoic visage. ‘ _ Believe me, rivvil, I am speaking your  _ precious  _ truth _ .’

A short pause stretched between them. The man nodded. “Very well. I believe you.” Relief sagged her heart. Viconia kept her spine stiff. “So I must ask, given that I am at the moment responsible for your safety, what do you intend to do now?” He narrowed his eyes. “Will you be seeking vengeance?”

A short laugh escaped her. “Vengeance? Against a faceless mob of slack-jawed rivvin?” She flicked her wrist. “Please. Even if I  _ did _ , I would hardly know where to begin. Besides…” Snapping bone played through her memory. Satisfaction warmed her chest. “...the one responsible has been punished. The rest were merely pawns.” The human relaxed and nodded.

“As for my intentions…” Viconia softened her gaze and looked away. ‘ _ A rivvil who earnestly protected me...I should not let this opportunity escape from me.’  _ She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips. “I am...unsure. I have no goals outside of survival. No wishes aside from life.” Her nails bit her arms.  _ ‘I truly could use some protection.’  _ The sounds of the city washed high, filling the quiet. She lowered her voice and returned her gaze. “You are one of few to look beyond my race. I would...I would… be grateful to journey with you, rivvil. I am a priestess, and could aid in whatever tasks you require.” Bile rose in her throat. ‘ _ Such meek cowardice...needs must…’ _

The man nodded and relaxed himself. “If that is true, I would welcome your aid.” He rubbed wearily at his eyes. “I am hunting a dangerous criminal as a trial; a blackguard called Dorn.” His hand lowered and he met her gaze. “So then, I propose a deal: I will aid you in maintaining your freedom, and you will in turn aid me in my quest.” Steely determination filled his eyes, rooting her in place.

Viconia swallowed and nodded. “I accept your terms, rivvil.” She pinched her arm, discontent rising swiftly. ‘ _ How soon...how soon until he betrays me?’  _ A smile crossed her lips. ‘ _ No. I will cross that bridge when I come to it.’  _ She extended her hand. “Your protection in exchange for my aid.” His hand clasped hers. “I am Viconia, of house DeVir. A pleasure to meet you, I am sure.”

His eyes locked to hers. Several breaths passed. A grin split his features. “I am Michael Tannison. Likewise.” He shook her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Cheery sunlight bit Viconia’s eyes. Peering spitefully under her upraised hand, she cursed the burning orb. ‘ _ Wretched, searing, circle of burning filth!’  _ She sneered and folded her arms, returning her gaze to the road. ‘ _ May Shar put out your flaming eye! This world is more bearable by far, during the night.’  _ Her eyes scanned the underbrush. ‘ _ At the very least, I see no ambushes.’  _ She grimaced, glancing back to her companion. Michael marched steadily down the simple road, chainmail hauberk jostling softly. He held his longsword beside him, one hand stabilizing his rucksack and their bedrolls. ‘ _ Blathering fool didn't even  _ protest _ when I commanded him to carry my weight!’  _ Viconia shook her head and pulled her grey hood down further. ‘ _ I  _ will _ uncover his agenda, Shar as my witness.’  _

Her left hand ghosted over her hip, swiftly ensuring her mace remained slung there. She pat the comfortable steel and scanned the forest edges. Sniffing dismissively, she returned her gaze to Michael’s back. ‘ _ What desires are you hiding, Paladin? Why are you  _ really _ out here?’  _ She tapped her fingers against her forearm. ‘ _ Too intelligent to actually  _ believe _ in altruism. I see it in his eyes.’  _ Her eyes swiftly scoured the underbrush. ‘ _...still no ambushes. This is too easy…’  _ A sour grimace tugged her lips down. ‘ _...so what is his ploy? What does he gain from this?’  _ A bird trilled with the cool wind. Viconia’s lips relaxed briefly . ‘ _ What a sound...beautiful…’  _ Her feet slowed and she looked around. ‘ _ They call it...birdsong. I would dearly like to find a ‘bird’, I think.’  _ A short whistle twitched her ear. Viconia tensed and snapped her head back to reality. Michael stood seven paces out, a concerned question painted over his honest features. “Are you alright, Viconia?” He rolled his shoulders and met her eyes. “You stopped. Were looking at the trees. Everything okay?”

Viconia gathered herself and quietly hissed her tension out. “Yes. I am well, male.” He grimaced slightly under the label. A vindictive gleam lit in her eye. ‘ _ A thread, perhaps? To unwind this...this facade?’  _ She resumed her pace, intentionally holding herself imperiously. ‘ _ I could finally rest easy, if I knew his honest goals. I would dearly love an ally…’  _ She cleared her throat and continued speaking. “I did not but test your attentiveness, male.” He resumed his steps, remaining a pace ahead and right of her. His left cheek tugged down. Viconia grinned poisonously. “You surface males are, of course, notoriously dense and sluggish.”

Michael shrugged and heaved a sigh. “As you say, ma’am.” Viconia frowned. ‘ _ Not enough? I  _ will  _ crack this stubbornness, Michael. You  _ will  _ show your true colors.’  _ She rapped her fingers against her forearm and scanned the underbrush. Calm green shrubbery met her scrutiny. She wet her lips and shifted her shoulders. ‘ _ By Shar’s bloodied shawl, if I hadn’t seen his steel myself, I’d swear he had no manhood.’  _ Her eyes drifted to him. ‘ _...I do wonder...is  _ that _ why he refused my reward?’  _ Comprehension dawned. ‘ _ Of course! His discomfort when addressed as male, his refusal, it makes sense.’  _ Giddy humor warmed her heart. ‘ _ Ha! A gelding. Well now, at least I understand. Geldings...they care for gold and prestige, do they not?’  _ Viconia grinned and relaxed her shoulders. ‘ _ Hunting a powerful criminal...that nets him both. Of course! It’s so obvious now.’  _ She glanced over him. Her eyes traced his sturdy limbs and broad chest. She bit her lip. ‘ _...A shame, in honesty. He looks to be a fine stallion. I might enjoy a gallop.’  _ Grinning at her own raunchy joke, she looked over the underbrush. A dark shape far down the road caught her eye. Ice chilled her blood. ‘ _ Irregular, angular shape. Large, bulky. Likely a male. Likely armed. Likely hungry for blood and gold. Must alert my companion.’  _ Viconia cleared her throat. “Male?” Quirking his eyebrow curiously, he paused and turned. Viconia swiftly signed a message:  _ ambush ahead, be watchful. _

Michael frowned and met her eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” Viconia blinked. Her jaw loosened briefly. Screwing her mouth shut she strode to him. ‘ _ Fool! Idiot, sunrotted fool! He is no drow! How would he know the sign!?’  _

Hissing sharply, she took his arm and pulled alongside him. Smiling saccharine sweet, she cooed in his ear. “Ambush ahead. Be watchful.” 

Eyes hardening, Michael returned the grin. “Ah, of course my dear.” His hand loosened the catch of his sack and alighted on her shoulder. “The river would be lovely.” Viconia’s faux smile turned true. ‘ _ Good. He  _ is  _ fast.’  _ His lips ghosted over her brow, whispering quietly. “How many?” 

A shudder traveled her spine. ‘ _ Mmm...there is the steel I saw…’  _ Petulant disappointment tugged her gut. ‘ _ A pity…’ _ She pressed herself to him. Laughing sweetly, she brushed her lips against his. “...two, at least. Likely more.” Her eyes met his. A hearty blush rose under his short beard. Viconia stifled a laugh. ‘ _ Oh surface folk, oh so prudish.’  _ Sighing contentedly, she leaned and tucked her head into his shoulder. “I will follow you, and guard your back.” His scent, a not unpleasant musk, filled her nose. Heat flushed her own dusky cheeks. ‘ _ Shar...at least he  _ smells _ like a true male. Pity...pity.’ _

Michael nodded and squeezed her shoulder. Hot air brushed over her sensitive elven ear. “Alright.” Viconia suppressed a shudder. ‘ _ I had forgotten how intoxicating danger can be, when facing it with another…’ _ She traced her nails along his shoulders. “They are probably hungry or desperate. We can probably strong arm our way through without risking combat.”

Viconia pouted. “Fine. But if they attack…”

“Don’t worry.” Michael smirked and met her intense gaze. “If…”

“Well!” A loud, rough voice called out. Viconia glanced languidly aside. A burly half-elven man stood in the street, two humans and a dwarf flanking him in the treeline. Light trappings hung over their ragged clothing, and simple weapons shifted in their hands. “What are you two lovebirds doing on a road like this?” A soft chorus of chuckles passed through their ranks. “It’s dangerous out here. Might run into bandits or the like.”

Michael drew Viconia alongside him and tucked his chin atop her head. Brief irritation flared in her gut. ‘ _ Overbearing male...at least they do not see my face like this.’  _ She sighed, allowing her anger to dissipate. Michael cleared his throat. “Is that so, friend? I thought the king's men and adventurers like yourself kept these roads safe.”

A poisonous grin split his cheeks. “Well now...you’ve got a point there.” Viconia watched through the corner of her eye, tracking the four men expertly. ‘ _ Their eyes keep flicking to that tree...they certainly have a fifth waiting to harry us.’  _ She adjusted herself, bringing herself even with Michael’s cheek. Her right hand trailed down his back and pressed four fingers in. She paused, crossed an x and pressed all five in. Michael nodded subtly. The half-elf continued speaking. “We  _ do _ keep these roads safe, don’t you know.” He coughed mockingly. “‘Course, we can’t be expected to work for free, now can we?”

Michael smirked. “Not at all. Honest work should receive honest pay.” Viconia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. ‘ _ Gods, could you  _ be _ any more naive?’ _

“Right...right.” The half elf cleared his throat and folded his arms. “So...why don’t you, say, pay us for keeping these roads clear, huh?” Michael quirked a brow. “Say...hundred gold?” His eyes traced over Viconia lecherously. “...and the harlot.” Indignant fury seared her mind. All of her self-control managed to keep her faux smile.

Michael furrowed his brows and tapped his chin. “Oh? But she’s a  _ fine _ harlot.” Viconia cocked her head and regarded him levelly. His blue eyes twinkled. “Surely high enough quality to knock seventy off the toll.”

The half elf grinned maliciously. “Seventy? No...no.” He made a show of thinking. “...more like forty. Maybe forty-five.”

Michael scoffed. “Only forty? Bah!” He pat her side. “Do you see the curves on her? Seventy’s generous and you know it.” Pausing to purse his lips, Michael sniffed. “Sixty.”

Viconia pinched his arm sharply, nearly drawing blood. Her voice whispered harshly. “Are you seriously  _ bartering _ right now?” Michael winked. Her stomach lurched and she pushed herself off him. ‘ _ I knew it! I knew I could never trust…’ _

Michael sighed and glanced ruefully back to the half elf. “Eh, sorry friend. She doesn’t like the offer. I suppose we will just need to part ways.” Viconia scowled and crossed her arms. “A shame, I had hoped to repay your efforts.”

The half elf snarled. “No...no I’m afraid her thoughts don’t count.” Viconia nearly laughed. ‘ _ Now there’s a sentiment I’m familiar with.’  _ The burly man dropped his arms and balled his fists. One hand drifted near a sheathed broadsword. “And since your trying to go back...I guess the price’ll be double...no, make that  _ all  _ you got.” His eyes flicked to Viconia. “And the harlot.”

Michael tisked and shook his head. “See now, that’s just unreasonable.” He folded his arms and stepped in front of her. “Here I offered you a steal of a price, and now you demand more?” Tutting his tongue and tapping his fingers, he continued. “Why, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were  _ bandits _ , not adventurers.” He stilled suddenly. Viconia heard the deadly calm in his voice. “...and I  _ hate  _ bandits.” 

The flanking henchmen laughed, nervous and quiet. The half elf set his jaw and scowled. “Yeah, and so? There’s four of us. You gonna take us all down, knighty?” He drew his sword and raised it. “Gonna bring us to justice, huh? All by yourself?” The man spat. Hatred screwed up his rough features. Similar dangerous expressions crossed the other bandits dirty faces. “Nah. We’ll kill ya, take all your loot, and fuck your harlot over your dead body.”

Viconia nearly heard the vicious grin spread over the paladin’s face. “See...that sounded like a threat.” His left hand whipped, drawing a sliver of steel from his hip and hurling it. The catch holding his pack slipped, dropping the heavy cargo. Steel glint. A throwing knife bit soft flesh, and the far left human collapsed. 

She immediately gripped her mace and stepped back, hand fishing under her robe for the holy symbol of Shar slung over her neck. Familiar resolve emerged, rising with her battle mentality. ‘ _ Not today. I  _ will not _ die this day.’  _ Michael deftly twisted his sword and charged. The sharp point thrust, catching the slower human. Blade sundered lung and hurled the human unto death. The half elf swung his broadsword, slicing a narrow band over Michael’s back. 

Viconia withdrew her symbol and scanned the treeline. A blur twinged her reflexes. She dodged aside, narrowly avoiding a bolt. She tracked the projectile, finding a skinny surface elf near a far tree. Malice rising in her heart, Viconia lifted her symbol and spoke in her native tongue. “ **Shar, Mother of Night! Heed your servant and strike down my** ** _foe!_** **_Mortis Penumbra_** _!”_ Tenebrous power welled in her chest and flowed down her arm. Her eye caught Michael swinging his sword in her peripheral. An axe blade bit his leg. Her heart twinged. Rays of seething darkness blasted forth. The surface elf scrambled back, desperately avoiding the rays. Dire will directed them, hurling death into the elf’s chest. Dark smoke billowed. The elf fell, and Viconia snarled venomously and turned to the road. 

Michael pushed his shoulder against the half elf, bleeding from numerous wounds. The bandit’s heel caught a ditch, unbalancing him. Michael’s blade twisted. Steel rent the air. Arterial blood sprayed. Michael finished his swing, decapitating the elf and staggering back. Viconia spurred herself, swapping her mace and symbol. The dwarf roared his fury and swung mightily. Michael narrowly deflected the strike, jaw firmly locked and eyes steeled. Viconia howled, screeching a furious banshee’s cry. The dwarf flinched visibly and jerked around. Her mace caught his shoulder. Shock numbed her arm. The dwarf cried out and staggered back, gripping his shoulder and cursing loudly. Michael’s sword cut the air. Hard steel struck the dwarf’s neck. Crimson blossomed, and the land fell quiet.

Viconia stepped back and scanned the area. Gently swaying trees and bushes circled all around them. Her breath hammered in her lungs. The adrenaline burned off, leaving her shaking and nauseous. ‘ _ Why...why!?’  _ She turned to Michael and scowled. The Paladin knelt, panting over his sword. Four shallow cuts and a deep laceration dot his form. Worry briefly rose before she squashed it. “If you were going to fight anyway, why would you put on that show!?” She holstered her mace and neared him.

Michael lowered his head. “They...they were never going to let us go.” He shook his head and coughed. “...didn’t you see...the murder in their eyes? The torn up uniforms? Deserters.” He pressed his hand over his bleeding chest. “....thought I might as well get a little fun out of it.” Blood phlegm spattered under his coughs. “...sorry for calling you a harlot. Just…got caught up in it.”

Viconia pursed her lips and regarded him. ‘ _I...but why…’_ She sighed heavily and knelt beside him. “Sit still, male.” Pressing her symbol to his ravaged body, she spoke in her native tongue. “ **Shar, mother of night, remove his wounds and restore his vigor, that he might serve me.** **_Restitutio ex vitas_** _.”_ Harsh, dark power flowed down her arm and writhed over his body. Michael sagged over, resting against his sword. Some long-buried instinct wiggled up. Viconia pursed her lips and scrutinized his wounds. Fresh, pink skin shone. ‘ _Good. He should heal well.’_ She adjusted his clothing, drawing the tattered remains over his wounds. “...you should be more careful. I am in danger if you perish.”

Michael huffed a laugh. “Of course, ma’am.” He gripped her hand and squeezed. “...and thank you for mending my wounds.” Her heart fluttered. Cheeks heating up, she turned away. “I’ll endeavor to keep my promise of safety.”

Viconia folded her arms and looked purposefully away. “See that you do, male.” Michael pushed himself up and heaved a heavy sigh. Viconia eyed him from the corner of her vision. ‘ _ He is hurt...badly.’  _ Worry tugged her gut. ‘ _ He had better live...the surface is dangerous for me.’  _ A buckle tightened behind her, and Michael trudged in front. He rolled his shoulders, jostling their joined pack, and marched on. Viconia watched him a brief moment. Shaking her head, she spurred herself to follow him. Quiet spread between the pair. Unformed words tickled her throat. She clenched her jaw and shook her head minutely. ‘ _ Bah. Bah! This surfacer has no right to vex me so.’ _ Forcefully relaxing her shoulders, she exhaled a deep breath. ‘ _ Control yourself. Show no weakness.’  _

Her eyes returned to the undergrowth, searching keenly for threats. Time idled on. Slow, painful ache built under her heels. The radiant sun waned in the sky, easing its harsh rays. Viconia felt her mood improving and faltering. ‘ _ The sun ceases his onslaught, but now the toil of travel wreaks havoc!’  _ She sighed angrily and pulled her shawl tight. Her eyes flicked to her companion. ‘ _ He yet marches...the male is stoic, at the very least.’  _ She chewed her lip pensively. ‘ _...but he is of no use to me dead. He has saved my life before...would he do so again?’  _ She folded her arms and rubbed her talisman. Cold, upsetting fear nibbled her core. ‘ _ If he died...I would lose what little legitimacy I have here.’  _ She slowed her pace, toes tapping in her simple shoes. Her fingers rapped a swift staccato. Michael paused and glanced back. Viconia cleared her throat and lifted herself imperiously. “We will stop here. Prepare our camp, male.”

Michael stood silent a moment. Adjusting the heavy pack, he looked aside towards the evening sun. A heavy sigh depleted his lungs. Michael shook his head and spoke softly. “...you know, Viconia, I don’t like it very much when you call me ‘male’.” 

Viconia puffed herself up. ‘ _ Here it is! His true face! Finally, we can put this annoyance behind us.’  _ Her lips curled in a cruel smirk. “Oh, what? Are you upset that your gender is so very simple?” She inspected her nails idly. ‘ _ Snatch onto the bait…’  _ Her eyes tracked him peripherally. “...or…is it that are  _ not  _ a male?”

Michael furrowed his brows and set his blade tip to the road. “What? Not a male?” He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.” Viconia felt her own features drawing pensive. ‘ _ What, is he daft? No...no he is not. What…’  _ Michael leaned on his blade, resting his head over interlaced fingers. Gentle evening wind kissed their brows, tussling their hair and her cowl. “No...it’s that...calling me ‘male’...it…” Shaking his head tiredly, Michael quieted. Soft birdsong carried over the woodlands. Viconia felt her heart easing, but kept her steely visage. Michael sighed and spoke, exhaustion bearing over him. “...it sounds like you don’t even think of me as a person.” Viconia tapped her foot. ‘ _ Really? That is all? I hurt his feelings? Pathetic.’ _ He lifted his head and met her steady gaze. “I gave you my name, Viconia DeVir. I would appreciate if you used it.”

Viconia cocked her hip and narrowed her eyes. “Is that so?” Folding her arms tightly, she infused her tone with false sweetness. “Would that please you,  _ male? _ ” Michael grimaced and looked away. “Would hearing your name on my lips make you  _ shiver _ ?”

Michael lowered his head. “...not what this is about.” Viconia tapped her foot. ‘ _ Why do you persist with this persona? Just confess your true intentions!’  _ Wind brushed through the woods, tussling her hair and loosening her cowl. “...it hurts me, when you speak like that.” 

“Hurts you!?” Viconia ground her heel and leaned forward. Her voice shifted, losing all tenderness. “My means of address causes you _pain?_ ” A deep, angry scowl broke her features. “...you know _nothing_ of pain, _male._ Pain is the _handmaiden_ of the Drow.” Dark, unhappy memories clawed up. _Viconia desperately slaying her treacherous sisters in the dead of night_. _Her dear brother, kind and clever, wracked with pain for her mistake. A dark coffin lid closing over her._ Emotion itched her eyes. She wrenched her head away, turning from him and her past. “I have lain with her...bled with her...made and unmade her a thousand thousand times.” Spitting angrily, she returned her look. “...you know _nothing_ of pain.”

Michael met her steely gaze. Long quiet stretched on. He nodded softly. “...I can’t claim to know your past. I can’t claim to know what you’ve been through.” He spread his hand across his chest. “All I speak is what I know. It hurts me when you call me male.” His hand fell. “...all I ask is that you call me by name.”

Viconia closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “If that is the extent of your reasoning…” She raised her eyes and glared. “...then I  _ refuse.”  _ A stray lock of silver-white hair fluttered before her eyes. “Pain  _ strengthens.  _ I will  _ not  _ coddle you,  _ male.” _

Michael huffed and straightened his back. Tremors visibly shook his worn limbs. “...fine. Fine. Have it your way, Viconia.” He rolled his shoulders and exited the road. Viconia narrowed her eyes and followed a space behind. “...would it truly  _ end  _ you, to be kind?”

Indignant anger simmered in her heart. “Did you not hear me, male?” Her fingers tapped steadily along her arms. “I  _ said _ that pain strengthens. Are you so idoitic that you would face your  _ duty  _ unprepared!?”

Michael stopped. Viconia nearly bumped him. Snarling viciously, she stepped back. The Paladin turned and regarded her steadily. “...my  _ duty _ , is to defeat evil and protect the innocent.” Anger tightened his voice and palms. “I am  _ well  _ prepared for that. Your hateful words don’t help.”

“Oh?” Viconia strode to him. “My  _ hateful _ words!?” Her hand itched, begging her for angry release. “If I am so  _ hateful,  _ then perhaps you should  _ smite  _ me, Paladin!” She clenched her hands and glowered. “Is that not your duty, to  _ purge _ the  _ wicked? _ ”

Michael pursed his lips. He adjusted his pack and shook his head. “...no.” Viconia scowled and opened her mouth. “No, I won’t smite you, Viconia.” He reached a hand out and gently gripped her shoulder. “...as unkind as it is, being  _ unkind _ is not a crime.” Viconia cocked her head and screwed her mouth shut. “Being angry or  _ hateful,  _ is not a crime. Meanness and harsh words are  _ not  _ evil.” He dropped his hand and turned, continuing on. “I would appreciate kindness, but I will not demand it.” A weak laugh escaped him. “...honestly, I think demanding kindness would be  _ more  _ evil than allowing meanness. Choice is important.”

Her scowl melted, leaving a confused frown. ‘ _ I...that…’  _ She followed him passively. ‘ _ How does that...why would you…’ _ Exhaustion throbbed behind her eyes. Michael stopped and dropped their pack. The Paladin stretched his body and wandered off. Viconia watched him trail away, head still awhirl. ‘ _ It hurts him...why would he  _ not  _ stop it? Does he…’  _ She rubbed her talisman worriedly. ‘ _ Does he think me his equal? What nonsense. What foolish...stupid...nonsense…’ _

Michael returned a time later, a small bundle of wood in his arms. With practiced ease, he set about preparing a small campfire. Viconia stirred herself, untying her bedroll and swiftly spreading it out. A small fire crackled to life, and Michael silently withdrew a water flask and satchel of rations. He sipped the water, sighed happily, and passed it to Viconia. She lifted it to her nose, smelling subconsciously for poison. Sipping lightly, she looked groundward and sat upon her bedroll. ‘ _ Why...why…’ _ Strong hands pressed a bundle of food in her palm. Viconia stared blankly at the food, searching for tell-tale traces of poisoned powder.  _ ‘Why...share...after what I said...Are you really that...that…’  _ She nibbled the hardtack. Salt and dried bread filled her mouth. Her tongue rubbed her palate, scouring the food for any trace of bitterness. Only blandness met her scrutiny. She swallowed and dropped her hands. Annoying tremors shook her chest. ‘ _...why?’  _

She sat, staring at her lap and nibbling food. Eventually, Michael spoke softly. “Are you alright, Viconia?” A strong hand gripped her shoulder. “You look...pensive.”

“I…” She rolled her shoulder, dislodging the hand. Clearing her throat, she turned and layed on her bedroll. “Yes. I am fine. I am fine.” 

  
Michael’s eyes bored into her back. “...alright. I trust you.” Her hands twitched. ‘ _ But...why?’  _ The intense gaze faded. “Goodnight, Viconia. I’ll take first watch. Sleep well.” She curled on herself. ‘ _ Why...why?’  _ Exhaustion clawed her, slowly dragging her to slumber. 


	3. Chapter 3

_ Oppressive darkness surrounded her. Hateful, goading whispers twined all around her. Her feet ran. Primal fear goaded her on. Webs, spun of lies and betrayal, slowed her flailing limbs. Great pressure weighed down. Air fled her lungs. She scrambled, desperately seeking salvation. Her nails clacked and skittered, bouncing off a hard wall above her. Fear, sorrow, pain, and hate fueled her frenzied clawing. The unrelenting maelstrom of emotion welled high, choking her and silencing all thought. _

A hand touched her shoulder. ‘ _ Danger.’  _ Viconia flinched awake, hand swiftly drawing the dagger sheathed in her belt. She twisted and swung the blade blindly. Scrambling back, she raised herself to a crouch. Her wide, panicked eyes scanned the area. Trees waved in the night breeze. Michael knelt near her, regarding her with concern and raising his hands placatingly. ‘ _ The human! Just...just the human...not a threat. Not a threat, yet.’  _ His eyes held an obvious concern. She gulped heavy breaths and nodded slightly. “I...I am well.” Wind swept through the glade. Her heart calmed. Viconia closed her eyes and covered her heart. A deep breath steadied her flagging nerves. “Do not fret, I will attend to my watch.”

Soft laughter spiked her anxiety. “No, no. That’s not why I woke you.” Boots stepped near her. She snapped her eyes open and stilled him with a glance. Lowering his brow in concern, he kept his hands raised. Consciously softening her visage, she sheathed her dagger. Michael touched her arm and met her eyes. “I woke you because you were crying.” Her blood froze. ‘ _ Crying? Weakness? I showed weakness!?’ _ Michael squeezed her shoulder, dragging her back to reality. “Were you having a nightmare? It looked...bad.”

Half formed memories fluttered in her mind. Viconia rubbed her eyes, dispelling the dire feelings and sights. “I had...no.” Firmly cultivated instinct diverted her from the truth. “I merely sleep abnormally at times.” Her eyes narrowed. “...and what, pray tell, where you staring at my resting form for?”

Michael blinked and withdrew his hand. “What was I…” He worked his jaw quietly. A faint blush colored his cheeks.

Mischief called her. Viconia turned her head and exaggeratedly covered herself. Lowering her crouch, she sat upon her bedroll. “To think! A surfacer staring lasciviously at my flesh as I slept!” Shuddering softly, she sniffed in disdain. “What an unscrupulous brute, to ravish a sleeping woman with his eyes!” 

“What!?” Michael stood and stepped back. His hands twitched, expression warring between embarrassment and anger. “I did no such thing!”

Viconia smirked behind her upraised hand. Her tone fell, sorrow and shame expertly replicated. “So he says! But who was here to say otherwise?” Fake sobs wracked her. “Oh, the shame! Why? Why!?”

Michael grimaced and knelt. Viconia watched placidly from behind her hand. “Viconia...please...I…”

“Then tell me  _ why!” _ She sniffed softly, an honest shred of hurt entering her tone. “...I thought you said you trusted me.” Her gut clenched. ‘ _ Though you would be a fool to do so…’ _

Her companion pushed up, kneeling closer to her. Vindication burned in Michael’s voice. “That is not it.” Viconia chewed her lip pensively. ‘ _ But then...why?’ _ Embarrassment colored his cheeks. Wiping his brow, Michael looked aside. “I was staring because...well…” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “...I…” Viconia settled her chin on her knees and met his gaze. Michael filled his lungs and depleted them slowly. Meeting her eyes, a soft smile crossed his lips. “...I was staring because...you are  _ beautiful,  _ Viconia.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Her hand trailed down her chest self-consciously. Screaming clarity shattered her illusions. ‘ _ He  _ does  _ lust after me. He  _ is not _ as ‘pious’ as he seems.’  _ Relief and disappointment crashed over her. ‘ _...at least I know. I can manipulate him now.’  _ She bit her lip and met his gaze. “...Is that so,  _ Michael _ ?” A shudder traveled his spine. Viconia grinned. ‘ _ So easy…’ _ One leg stretching out, she looked down her body. “Does Viconia stir your blood, hmm?” Her hand traced lewdly down her chest. “Does my dusky flesh ignite passion? Do you wish to claim me, and mark me as yours?” Her head returned to his, a small bit of her own arousal warming her cheeks. 

Michael frowned. “...dusky flesh?” He shook his head and looked away, settling his jaw in hand. Viconia cocked a brow. ‘ _ No? Is it not the exoticism? Quaint.’  _ Michael rubbed his cheek. “No...it’s the…iron, I’ve seen in you.” Her heart fluttered. He looked back, utter belief steeling his features. Taken aback, Viconia covered her speeding heart. Michael continued, eyes growing distant. “Your strength, and your determination. I  _ know _ the surface is not welcoming to your kind. And yet…” A soft smile crossed his face. “...and yet you continue on. You simply  _ do not _ surrender. I saw a  _ small _ piece of the hatred my people can hold for you…” Chuckling softly, he hung his head. Viconia drew inward, nervousness reigniting. ‘ _...my...iron?’  _ Michael lifted his head and looked to the stars. “...even when bound to a stake, doom all but assured...you bounced back.” He shook his head in wonder. “...in  _ seconds _ , you were pressing on. No wasted time. No pointless tears. Strength of will I see so rarely, even among my order, where it should be common.” Viconia tucked her chin, mind warming and falling quiet. Michael coughed and laughed awkwardly. “...but of course, even amoung those who do…” One hand rubbed his neck. “...my masters and Sir Keldorn lack a certain…” He gesticulated vaguely. “...feminine...charm, that you possess.”

_ ‘It  _ is _ lust! It  _ must _ be!’  _ She scowled and turned away, covering herself earnestly. “Turn your gaze!” Yanking her cowl down, she hissed her anger and spite. “I’ll have no more of it! Your lust is  _ not _ reciprocated!” Strange, uncomfortable emotion strangled her. She stifled the feeling, deflecting the oddity with venom. “As if I, scion of house DeVir, would  _ ever _ lie with a rivvil!” Her native drow peaked up, tempestuous emotion weakening her grasp of common. “ **Idiot** _! _ Wretched fool! Take your shriveled  **_penis_ ** and  **_choke_ ** **on it** _!  _ **Wretch** _!  _ **Cur** _!” _

Quiet filled the small camp. Viconia hugged her knees tight, heart hammering. Michael audibly snapped his mouth shut and muttered something before speaking aloud. “...as you say, ma’am.” 

Viconia clenched her fists, nails biting deep. Crimson fluid seeped up, staining her simple robes. Horrible and angry thoughts flit through her head. ‘ _ Wretched, slimy, cur…’  _ Back pointedly turned, she layed on her bedroll. ‘ _ Strange...unkind lies and oddities!’ _ Her hands clenched and tightened rhythmically. ‘ _ Weakening me with confusion! Speaking in these half truths and wretched lies…’  _ Cold shivers trailed her spine. ‘ _...why can he not just confess his lust? What is this...this  _ facade _ he presents?’  _ She huddled over her core. ‘ _ He is open and kind, as if he wishes to couple with me, but deflects my own affections? Why?’  _ Uncomfortable tremors caressed her. ‘ _ The bastard even  _ admits _ my beauty! So why!?’  _ Bilious thoughts coiled around her heart. ‘ _ I know...he is playing a game.’  _ She scowled and drew her cloak tightly around herself. ‘ _ Testing me...playing coy and teasing out my intentions. I had thought males incapable of such discretion.’  _ Tired worry sighed from her. ‘ _ Well...perhaps he will be worth the effort then. A powerful mate is a boon.’  _ Wickedness carved a smile over her face. ‘ _ What a fool he is, to challenge a drow to the battlefield of the bed. He will bow before me, soon enough.’  _ The comforting thought soothed her roiling mind, allowing her tired body to relax and trail towards sleep. ‘ _...soon enough, male. Soon enough…’ _

“Viconia.” Michael’s voice called. She surfaced from slumber, adrenaline immediately waking her. Her eyes snapped open, body tensing and hand gripping her knife. She blinked, clearing her sleep-addled mind. ‘ _ The human. Waking me again.’  _ She righted herself and stretched. Painful tension eased, hissing from her body in a pleased sigh. Tugging her grey robes tight, she coiled on herself and leveled Michael a questioning glance. He cleared his throat and glanced away. Heavy weight seemed to hang from his eyes. “It’s your watch. I need to sleep.” 

‘ _Yes...mutual benefit.’_ She nodded and turned. “Very well.” Bringing her legs underneath herself, she settled down. Michael muttered his thanks. ‘ _What an insipid fool, to trust a drow to watch over him as he sleeps.’_ She heard fabric shuffling, and Michael huff. Her lips cracked, forming a smirk. ‘ _How long would he survive Menzoberranzan, I wonder?’_ Humor eased her discomfort, occupying her mind and passing the quiet night. ‘ _Ha! How long would he survive the underdark itself? An hour? Three?’_ Silent chuckles shook her. ‘ _Oh, what a soft, pathetic human this is. To think, he believes he can best_ me!’ Soft snores entered the night. Viconia quirked a brow and glanced aside. Michael lay sprawled over his bedroll, one hand covering his eyes and one resting upon his gut. A moment passed and his lips shifted, releasing the quiet sound. ‘ _Truly? Asleep so swiftly?’_ She turned and rolled her eyes. ‘ _...fine. I will watch over him. He is instrumental to my freedom, after all.’_

Viconia settled herself and looked to the forest. Serene moonlight drifted through the trees. Gusts of near silent wind tousled her hair. Viconia looked to the moon and grimaced. ‘ _ The soft one...the one who does not understand reality. The  _ dreamer _.’  _ Bitterness burned her gut. Viconia scowled and averted her gaze. ‘ _ Bah! Take your idiocy elsewhere, Eilistraee. It is not wanted this night.’  _ No answer met her, aside from the tranquil woods. 

Time slowly crept onwards. Viconia lifted her head and gazed far. Memories of times similar flit through her head.  _ Her and her dear brother sitting above the glimmersea, delighting in their youth and marveling at the world. _ She covered her heart, eyes trailing up. The moon shone down on her, soothing and calm. Hot, scratchy moisture threatened her vision.  _ Her venting her fury and indignation over her mate’s infidelity, and her dear brother listening with sympathy and understanding. _ Tears slipped through her iron grip. She choked a sob, refusing to sound her distress.  _ Listening to her dear brother sing in the quiet night, watching the scheming city and laughing at the poor fools who did not have such a companion.  _ Viconia closed her eyes, and covered her mouth, willing the tremendous emotion to still. Her eyes opened, and beheld the moon. Steely will yanked her back. Viconia cast her head away and sneered, anger stifling her pain. ‘ _ Wretched moon goddess, filling my mind with weakness and strife! I spit on you, moonmaiden!’  _ She hunched over, dragging her shawl tight around her trembling shoulders. ‘ _ Curse you, Eilistraee! Leave me be! I have no desire to partake in your weakness! Shar claim you…’  _ Time passed, unaffected by the hostile thoughts.

She remained huddled over herself, spitefully clenching her hands and avoiding the moon’s shining gaze. Thin threads of light peeked through the sky, unraveling the bizarre enchantment binding her. Viconia furrowed her brows and looked to the horizon. ‘ _ Odd…I would swear only a few hours have passed. My musings must have been deeper than I thought.’  _ She filled her lungs and stood, stretching her cramped limbs and shifting her mind. ‘ _ So...this day we continue our travel and hopefully find some lead on this ‘Dorn’ wretch. Bah. And I thought the surface different...but no. They kill each other for reasons just as inane.’  _ She blinked and shook herself. ‘ _ Damn. I must focus, or I will surely be slain.’  _ She attended to her morning rituals, mind still annoyingly fuddled. A time later, she surveyed the camp and nodded. ‘ _ Time to move.’ _ Shaking her head, she marched to Michael’s sleeping form and kicked his side firmly. “Wa…”

A powerful hand surged, gripping her leg and pulling mightily. Viconia yelped. Her balance immediately fell, and her back slammed the earth. Vibrant pain pulsed through her body. She snatched her knife and drew it. Steel pressed against her throat. Viconia fell motionless. ‘ _ Bargain. I am not already dead, so he wants something.’  _ She cleared her throat and spoke, remaining perfectly still. “Michael...wait. What is it that you want?”

“Vi…conia?” Michael groaned, exhaustion evident. The steel against her throat retracted. ‘ _ Now!’ _ She skittered back, standing and readying her knife. Her hard gaze fell on the male. Confusion tugged her. Michael rubbed his eyes tiredly, back still resting against his bedroll. She squeezed her knife. ‘ _ What...why does…’  _ She shook her head and slowly relaxed. ‘ _ Likey...likely that he has a proper survival instinct. Not as soft as he appears.’ _ Michael flopped back, knife clumsily returning to its sheath. “...what was that about?”

“About?” She narrowed her eyes. “I was waking you, male!” Folding her arms, she glanced aside.“I had  _ thought _ you wished to wake early, to pursue your  _ noble quest _ .”

Michael fell quiet. A heavy sigh depleted his lungs, and he righted himself. “...right. Early. To catch Dorn.” He stretched and yawned. Viconia exhaled her irritation. “...did you really have to  _ kick _ me, though?”

Anger flared in her gut. “ _ Kick _ you!? Male, I  _ nudged _ you!” She glared him down. “ _ You _ are the one who overreacted, rivvil! You drew a blade on me!”

Michael pushed himself up. Obvious exhaustion and pain slumped his frame. “Getting kicked...getting kicked is  _ not  _ a normal waking.” He stepped aside and exited sight. Viconia fell slack-jawed. ‘ _ Is he...is he  _ walking  _ away!?’  _ She stepped forward before breathing deep and shaking her head. ‘ _ He is...likely relieving himself, and will return shortly. He has not abandoned me.’  _ She tapped her foot, tension bubbling her gut. ‘ _ I am still...needed, I am sure. My usefulness has not dried up from a simple misunderstanding. Surely.’  _ Footfalls announced someone’s presence. Her eyes snapped up and met Michael’s tired form. Tension bled from her. ‘ _ Ha! Of course. Ha.’  _ The human knelt beside his bedroll and methodically bound it up. Viconia stepped back, surveying the area. ‘ _ Still no sign of hostile rivvin. Good. Our camp was well hidden.’  _ Michael approached her. Viconia tensed herself, ready to fight or flee. The human quirked a brow before kneeling beside her bedroll and rolling it tight. She closed her eyes and breathed heavily through her nose. ‘ _ This human is...straining, my mind. Shar’s bloody shawl, but it is nerve-wracking to rely on another.’  _ Michael cleared his throat. Viconia forcefully relaxed herself and met his gaze. Their shared pack rested over his shoulders alongside their bedrolls. The tired Paladin jerked his head aside. “Time to move.”

Viconia nodded, choosing to remain quiet. Michael returned the gesture and pivoted, entering a dogged march north. ‘ _ Good. On the road, no more time to ruminate.’  _ Shaking her head free of distraction, she followed.

Sunlight crested over the land, bringing warmth and upsetting brightness. Viconia trailed her eyes through the underbrush before glancing back to her companion. Michael marched on, exhaustion visibly weighing him down. She quirked a brow. “I had thought you would wake, male, but you seem half-dead.” Smirking viciously, she continued. “Do all humans require so much rest, or are you simply weaker than most?”

Michael scratched his jaw. “...Ah. About that…” He rubbed his neck and sighed. “...you looked like you needed sleep, so I took a few extra hours of watch.” Viconia hardened her gaze. ‘ _ He...what?’  _ Soft laughter rumbled his chest. “...your right about the ‘half-dead’ thing, though. I feel like shit.”

Frustration burned her stomach. Hissing through her teeth, Viconia pushed forward and drew even with the human. “Extra hours!? What, do you think me incapable of a normal watch!?”

“What? No, I…” He turned, features falling.

“Insipid male!” Viconia lifted her hand and slapped the man, outrage and some other tenebrous emotion soaring. Michael reared back. “The burden is split for a  _ reason _ , male! What if you become lax, and slip in your duties!?” She jerked her head aside and stared firmly away. “What if your strength had lulled, and you fell to slumber moments before an ambush? If more…”

Michael turned and trudged on, shaking his head and looking away. “...but I didn’t, and there was no…”

Outrage spurred her. Seizing his arm, Viconia yanked him back. “That is  _ not _ the point! Luck is nothing to rely on!” Michael snarled and tore his arm free. An angry grimace stole her own visage.”What if more bandits show their mangy hides? What if you are hurt? What then, male!? What then!?”

“Fine!” Michael swore beneath his breath and ground his heel. “I was just trying to  _ help  _ you, woman!” He rubbed his jaw and wheeled about. “I suppose that should teach me, huh! Try and help, and get pissed on!”

Viconia sighed and nodded. “Precisely. That is exactly the truth…”

“Bullshit.” Michael jut a finger, nearly gouging her eye. Viconia blinked. “Don’t you say that helping another is bound to end in pain.” She frowned and lowered her brows. “Helping each other is what  _ rids _ this world of pain. Nothing comes of mistrust, and selfishness.” A scoff formed on her lips. Michael stepped forward, dropping his finger but flaring his chest. “Don’t. No. Not a  _ word _ about naivety, or foolishness.” He snapped back, resuming his march. 

Viconia sneered, stepping to keep alongside him. “Fine then, I’ll say not a word more.” Vindictive glee filled her. “Let my cold silence be your companion.”

Michael slowed. “...Viconia…” She turned her head, eyes closed and nose lifted. ‘ _ Stupid male. If you do not want my help, I will not offer it.’  _ A heavy sigh rattled his lungs. “...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Nausea turned her gut. ‘ _ What a simpering…’ _ Michael turned and met her eye. “I wasn’t truly angry at you.” He looked away and clenched his palms. Viconia quirked a brow condescendingly. ‘ _ Of  _ course _ not. Now that I am  _ offended _ , he meant no harm.’  _ He lowered his head and voice. “...I was angry that your life has been painful enough to make you think that.” Her heart skipped a beat. Her jaw slackened, and anger bled from her. Michael continued, oblivious to her changed expression. “I was angry that...that I wasn’t there to stop that pain. I was angry that this world  _ has  _ so much pain, that people are  _ hurt _ and there’s not a  _ damn  _ thing I can do about it.” Viconia folded her arms self-consciously. Michael looked to the morning sun. “...I’m...frustrated, and angry. But not at you.” He blinked several times and shook his head. “...Ah, sorry. I opened a bit wide on you there.” He turned. Viconia snapped her visage to a steely anger. “Point is: I am sorry. You don’t deserve my anger.”

Viconia stormed ahead, brushing past him. Indignant pride and an alien feeling writhed within her. “You are correct on that account, male!” She rubbed her arms, willing the strange emotions to disperse. “And do not unburden yourself on me again! It is unseemly.”

She slowed her pace. Footsteps started behind her. “...as you say, ma’am.”

Viconia shook her head and spurred herself on. ‘ _ Wretched...slimy...bizarre…’  _ Hissing her agitation out, she relaxed her features. “I shall forgive you  _ this  _ time, male.” Her shawl flapped around her, stirred by the warm wind and her fervent movement. “But do not expect my grace to be endless!”

  
She nearly heard the grin in his voice. “...as you say, ma’am.” She clenched her hands, nails biting deep. ‘ _ Insufferable...agitating, male!’  _ Deep breath soothed her lungs. ‘ _ He will learn, in time. No one stay naive forever. Not even idyllic paladins. The question is...how to break this flawed view?’  _ She pursed her lips, mind blurring time and travel. ‘ _ How to awake him to reality? How indeed…’ _


End file.
